Foolishness
by Inyx Dawn
Summary: ‘How foolish we mortals be,’ I thought fondly. ‘For there is none more foolish than I.'
1. Envy

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Summary:** 'How foolish we mortals be,' I thought fondly. 'For there is none more foolish than I.'

**Warning:** Slash; Lemon; Lime; Angst

* * *

_**_ Envy _**_

* * *

His eyes are like liquid emeralds. His voice reminds me of the sweet, sweet melodies of happiness long gone. His smile radiates a silent forlorn misery. This boy's, no, _man's _name is Harry Potter.

* * *

My heart had gone numb when I had first laid eyes on him; this fragile, lost, little boy who looked to be the age of eight. I knew everything I had thought I would ever want to know about this lonely child at that moment.

Harry Potter, at the age of eleven, was not a sight to behold. He was always so disheveled, unkempt, and the clothing he wore could put the Weasley's to shame. His jet black hair lacked any sort of luster; his skin was gaunt across his bones and reflected a sickly white color, and his overall stature reached a pitiful four feet.

I cared not for this so called savior of the Wizarding World.

* * *

By the end of my first year at Hogwarts I had become even more withdrawn; Mother had remarried. However, at the end of that same year, Harry had successfully saved the school, the Sorcerer's Stone, and the Wizarding world (once again).

He was also leaving with a broomstick, a first year's knowledge of spells and wand waving, the start of a pleasant tan, brighter eyes, and a small smile.

It would be a lie if I said I did not envy him. For who did not? It was right about then, I think, that I began to despise him with a hate so white-hot and impure that I surprised myself.

* * *

'How foolish we mortals be,' I thought fondly. 'For there is none more foolish than I.'

* * *

_In youth I have known one with whom the Earth_

_In secret communing held - as he with it,_

_In daylight, and in beauty, from his birth:_

_Whose fervid, flickering torch of life was lit_

_From the sun and stars, whence he had drawn forth_

_A passionate light - such for his spirit was fit -_

_And yet that spirit knew - not in the hour_

_Of its own fervour - what had o'er it power._

* * *

"In Youth I Have Known" 'First Verse' by Edgar Allan Poe

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**© 2010 Inyx Dawn**


	2. Pretender

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Summary:** 'How foolish we mortals be,' I thought fondly. 'For there is none more foolish than I.'

**Warning:** Slash; Lemon; Lime; Angst

* * *

_**_ Pretender _**_

* * *

Sometimes, when it is just him and me, I can imagine a world where this could be possible. Where me and this emerald eyed demon – for that is what he is – can be together without hiding. But then I remember the dangers of such a world and the tiny ray of hope that had started to attach itself to my person washes away.

Whenever I glance at the man who is currently lying in my arms, a rush of hot, blistering protectiveness threatens to consume me. This man who has had to fight so much to gain so little. This man who - who I love. He might have been proclaimed the savior of the Wizarding World, but that is a lie. He hasn't saved a place, no, he's saved people. Corrupted, manipulative, passionate, loving, hating, hurting people. And he's saved me. But I do not think he knows it.

* * *

The following year I found myself alone. I hardly ever left the safe confines of the library even as a slithering monster was petrifying muggleborns. At that point in my life, I had not cared.

I still felt that white hot rage whenever I glanced at Harry. It raised flames around my heart and closed off my lungs. My eyes would narrow and my facial features would twist into an ugly image of my soul.

He never noticed though. And why should he? There were whispers at every corner; ridiculing him, taunting him, calling him 'Slytherin's Heir'. Idiots, the lot of them.

* * *

There was a moment, once that year, where I found myself alone with this demon. A demon I was sure was put on this earth to torture me for sins I could only dream of committing. I had, of course, dreamt of the darkest and sweetest sins; of the body and of the soul. I wanted to be tainted. I suppose, since I was only twelve at that point, I had not realized just how tainted I already was.

He had looked at me with bright orbs of exhaustion. It was not the type of tiredness from sleep deprivation, no, because surely that was too normal for Harry Potter.

He had taken one look at me, at the coiled snake that rested gently across my heart, at the silver and green tie loosely knotted around my neck, and that was it.

He turned around, apparently thinking that as I was a Slytherin I would start a fight. A fight he was definitely not in the mood for. It would be the last time I would ever see him alone for the next two years.

That was the only time since the sorting that I had ever glanced at him and had not felt anything.

_Liar..._

* * *

Sometimes love is inspired from the night

I glance down at the sleeping man lying quietly in my lap. He is my sentimentality, my happiness, my poison. He has left me tainted in the most pleasant of fashions, and I cannot help but think that sin has never tasted so sweet.

And when the sun's rays end this sight,

A mirage of colors slowly hit the chair we're occupying, shining a soft light over our eyelids. A groan awakens me from my thoughts, and I gently tangle a hand in soft midnight hair.

All the feelings remain with the stars of the night.

This is my least favorite part; when we have to pretend. I hate this, sometimes, and the look on his face reflects it too, but even I cannot deny that he is worth this. Harry Potter is worth every hardship and anguish I must bear because, really, I just love him that much.

* * *

_Perhaps it may be that my mind is wrought_

_To a fever by the moonbeam that hangs o'er,_

_But I will half believe that wild light fraught_

_With more of sovereignty than ancient lore_

_Hath ever told - or is it a thought_

_The unembodied essence, and no more_

_That with a quickening spell doth o'er us pass_

_As dew of the night time, o'er the summer grass?_

* * *

"In Youth I Have Known" 'Second Verse' by Edgar Allan Poe

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**© 2010 Inyx Dawn**


	3. Importance

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**Summary:** 'How foolish we mortals be,' I thought fondly. 'For there is none more foolish than I.'

**Warning:** Slash; Lemon; Lime; Angst

* * *

_**_Importance _**_

* * *

It was not until my third year, I believe, that I had ever even noticed the giant glass clock that resides above the courtyard. I had not known then just how soon it would become my only company in the long nights of the near future; how its soft ticking would sooth my frayed soul and bring a much needed focus to my mind. This ancient clock is, in many ways, just like Harry; because just like my young lover, it is a ticking bomb.

* * *

Harry at thirteen was growing into his body; he was still small and still vastly malnourished, but there was a light in his eyes that had not been there in the previous years that I had seen fleetingly and had forgotten soon after.

Sirius Black, supposedly the highest ranking Death Eater in Lord Voldemort's dark army, had escaped prison. And, just to add a little more spice to my life, my mother decided on her next husband (the other from first year had mysteriously died in a horrible potions accident; I've been told there was blood and the sort everywhere).

* * *

He was a scared child and many people would say he had the right to be. Except I; I who had suffered through many horrors in only thirteen years without the right to feel fear. I was meant to be above fear and, as such, I believed that the only ones worthy of respect would need to follow the same idea. Because of this, unfortunately, I blinded myself to a growing brilliant power in favor of those less spectacular. It would be one of the gravest mistakes I would yet make.

Nevertheless, this little boy had yet another murderer after his life and, without fail, it started a series of events so critical to both of our lives that I can now say without any doubt that had even one thing gone differently we would not be where and who we are at this point in time.

* * *

I kissed my lover fleetingly on the lips, keeping it chaste despite the yearning in my soul. This precious creature deserved all and any of the gentleness I could spare and I always made sure he received as much as possible.

The tightly bound fire flickered and burned deep in my abdomen but I knew that upon this morning none of that passion would be unleashed. Today was important in some way and we both knew it. So with one last kiss and a slow caress of his cheek, I watched Harry Potter done his mask and walk back into our shadowed world.

* * *

_Doth o'er us pass, when as th' expanding eye_

_To the loved object – so the tear to the lid_

_Will start, which lately slept in apathy?_

_And yet it need not be – (that object) his_

_From us in life – but common – which doth lie_

_Each hour before us – but then only bid_

_With a strange sound, as of a harpstring broken_

_T; awake us – 'Tis a symbol and a token -_

* * *

"In Youth I Have Known" 'Third Verse' by Edgar Allan Poe

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* * *

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**© 2010 Inyx Dawn**


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